A Visit
by ladyanaconda
Summary: Marigold falls ill, and she must stay in bed. When she is by herself, she receives a rather unexpected visit from a mysterious figure that is closer to her than it seems. Short one-shot.


Marigold woke up with a terrible headache, a long-lasting sensation of shivering and cold and a sore throat. She shifted in bed, her feathers bristling in discomfort and tried to speak, but as soon as she uttered a few words her swollen vocal cords hurt, and she had to remain quiet. Wonderful. It seemed that playing out in the snow until late had a negative effect, after all. A few minutes later, her father walked in.

"Marigold?" he inquired when he saw her still on bed. "Are you coming down for breakfast?"

"I', c-coming, papá…" Marigold tried to rise from bed, but she started to cough.

Xibalba grew alarmed and immediately dashed towards bed, removing a glove to place his hand on his daughter's forehead. "Marigold, you're boiling hot!"

"I'm okay, papá, really…"

" _Jovencita_ , you're staying on bed for the rest of the day." Xibalba continued, gently pushing her back on bed and pulling up her velvet duvet to cover her. "I'll bring you something tasty to eat, you just wait here, okay?"

"Okay…"

Xibalba teleported out of the room, and a few minutes later he was back with a small tray with orange juice, fried eggs, bacon and a sausage, as well as a bit of soup. Marigold shifted on bed so her father could place the tray on her lap. Once more, Xibalba checked on his daughter's temperature, it was still very high. "How are you feeling, sweetie?"

"I'm cold…"

"It's normal. Don't worry, everything will be okay."

"It's not that bad, really…"

"Better safe than sorry, my darling." The older god cut a slice from the eggs, and lifted it towards his daughter's lips. "Open wide, _chiquita_!" he chimed.

Marigold didn't protest as her father continued to fuss over her, feeding her and checking her temperature every now and then. Once the plate was empty, Xibalba placed the tray aside and sat down next to his daughter. "Do you need something else, my sweet?"

"No thanks, papá…" Marigold coughed once more.

Still, he wouldn't leave his daughter alone in this state, so he wrapped his arms and wings around her his daughter's smaller frame. "Feeling better?" Xibalba whispered into Marigold's ear, brushing a hair away from her face.

"More or less, but…" the little godling sneezed. "I'm getting bored. Can I go play outside?"

"Sorry, _mi florecita_ , but in that state it'll be best that you stay on bed for today."

"I'll get bored…"

"Come on, sweetie, there are lots of things you can do, like…" Xibalba thought for a moment. "… Reading."

"I already read most of your books."

"Well…" an idea came to his head, and he grinned. "I can stay with you all day if you'd like."

"But what about your work?"

"I don't think the realm will crumble just for missing one day to be with my baby, will it?" Xibalba chuckled, planting a small kiss on his child's forehead. "Oh dear, you are burning hot." With a snap of his fingers, he summoned a small bowl of cool water and some cloths. Marigold didn't say anything as her father started dipping a cloth in the water to gingerly wipe her burning forehead with it. After a while, Xibalba spoke again. "You know, this reminds me a bit of when I got ill and you took care of me."

"I did?"

He nodded, laughing softly. "It's okay if you don't remember, you were only three. I got fever that day, and you spent all day trying to make me feel better. You even tried to cure me with your toy wand." Xibalba couldn't help but chuckle at that.

"Oh no…" Marigold blushed in embarrassment.

"You don't have to feel embarrassed, my sweet. I have a much more embarrassing tale."

"Like what?"

Xibalba looked around to make sure no one was listening, and leaned in closer to his daughter to whisper into her ear. "Once I had to climb into your crib with you."

Marigold stared at her father with a dumbfounded expression, before bursting into a small fit of giggles. "What?"

"I know it sounds ridiculous, but I did. You were barely one year old, I had just passed you into a nursery but you didn't like being alone…"

* * *

 _Damn it, he knew it would be hard to pass his daughter to her own room, and a new crib, but he just never new how much. He would lull his daughter to sleep in his arms, but as soon as placed her on the crib she'd start to cry, forcing him to pick her up yet again. She had to be stubborn like her daddy!_

 _He had adorned her crib with plushies and pink colors, and her mobile had little animal plushies, like bees, horses, birds and pigs, but Marigold still did not want to be left alone. She was used to sleeping with her daddy, and didn't want it to change at all. Xibalba was getting frustrated, he had done exactly as Toci and Akhushtal told him; he introduced Marigold to the crib slowly, made it look comfortable, created a bedtime routine (a glass of warm milk, a bath, lots of snuggling and a lullaby), and still she did not want it. He was running out of options._

 _"_ _Sh-sh-sh." Xibalba shushed at his baby, bouncing her in his embrace and shaking her rattle over her. "There, there,_ _ **pequeña**_ _. It'll be okay, it's a big, colorful crib for you." But as he tried to place her down on the crib, she started to wail once again; she rolled unto her belly and crawled towards the bars of the cradle to try and climb out. Xibalba sighed as he gently lay her back down, only for her to do the same thing. Great, what was he supposed to do? Maybe he needed to show her that it was okay, that nothing would happen to her in the crib. Still, it didn't mean he had to like it._

 _Making sure there was no one around, Xibalba muttered something under his breath as he climbed unto the crib (luckily, it was big enough for him to fit inside, and strong enough to support his weight) and accommodated himself, barely managing to accommodate his wings. As soon as he was inside the crib, Marigold snuggled against him, still wailing; a few pats in the back, soothing words and shushing later, Xibalba managed to calm his daughter down. Marigold snuggled against her father, sucking on her finger and grabbing unto his feathers._

 _For a few hours, Xibalba just stayed there, trying to sneak out of the cradle only to have to lie down when Marigold started to whimper and sob, letting out exasperated sighs every time. He kept staring at his sleeping baby for a few minutes, before she finally awakened and looked up at him with bright eyes. "Papa."_

 _"_ _Hey there, sweetie."_

 _She giggled and crawled up to his curled up wings, snuggling and playing with the feathers. Xibalba couldn't help but smile fondly as he watched her, chuckling a bit from the ticklish sensation, until he had an idea…_

 _The next day he took some of his molten feathers from the trashcan, washed and disinfected them and plucked a few from his wings. Then he proceeded to sew them together until they were big enough to make a blanket. When nap time came, he picked Marigold up from her designated place in the ground to play, and took her to her nursery, but as soon as she saw the crib she started to cry._

 _"_ _Shhh, there, there, it's going to be okay, my sweet." The dark god cooed, grabbing the dark blanket made of his feathers and wrapping it around her. "Papi made something for you…"_

 _For a few minutes she continued to cry, until she recognized the sensation of her father's wings wrapped around her and his scent of tar. Finally, Marigold soothed down and snuggled deeply into the blanket. Xibalba prayed with all his might that it might work as he slowly bent down to place her down on the crib, panicking when she wiggled and sobbed a bit but she calmed down shortly after. Xibalba froze when he placed her down on the crib's mattress and retreated his hands carefully, tensing up as he saw her wiggling in her blanket._

 _But Marigold didn't mind him. She liked the sensation and smell of his feathers so much she was deeply asleep._

 _Smiling, Xibalba bent down and planted a small kiss on his daughter's forehead, tucking Rattles next to her. "_ _ **Buenas noches, mi florecita**_ _."_

* * *

Marigold let out a yawn and rubbed her eyes. "Sounds funny…"

Noticing she was tired, Xibalba pulled up her covers to warm her up. "Is there anything else you need, my sweet?"

"No, papá… I'm okay, really."

"If you need anything call for me or the servants, okay?"

"Okay…" another yawn, and she snuggled against her pillows, falling asleep shortly after.

Smiling, Xibalba leaned in closer to peck a small kiss on her cheek. " _Que duermas bien, pequeña_." With this, he stood up from bed, picking up the long-forgotten tray with empty plates and walked out the door, glancing one last time at his daughter as he closed the door behind him.

Marigold slept for a few hours, stirring every now and then, until she felt a cold air that sent shivers down her spine. Her powers were still in early development, but she could already feel other entities' presences. Eventually, she had to open her eyes to see who had gotten inside her room. There was a pair of glowing red eyes just next to her bed, belonging to a shadowy being, she faintly saw the shape of a dragon. She had no idea of who he was, but he apparently had no evil intentions, despite having a sinister air to him.

"Who are you?" she asked, still drowsy.

The shadow just stayed there silently, staring at her with curious eyes, before it spoke in a deep, intimidating voice. "No one important, dear child." He was doing his best to soften up his voice as much as possible.

"How did you get in here?"

"I have my ways."

"Did papá let you in? He doesn't like that I talk with strangers."

When she mentioned her father, the shade grew silent momentarily, before speaking again. "Let's say… your father knows me, but he doesn't know I'm here. I think it'd be best that he doesn't."

"Why?"

"All I can tell you is that he doesn't like me very much." The shadow sighed.

Marigold yawned. "Why are you here?"

The non-corporeal creature 'laid down' on top of her bed, resting his head on top of his paws. "I want to speak to you. You seem like a nice girl."

"What creature are you? Are you like the ethereal guards papá summons when there is trouble?"

"Not exactly, dear child. I'm more like a sort of ghost that lingers around here."

"Why?"

"Long story."

"Did you die here with unfinished business."

The shadow thought for a moment, before nodding. "In a way, you could say."

The godling sat up in bed, staring at the shadow. "How come I have never seen you before?"

"You sure are a curious one." The shadow chuckled. "I have been watching you for some time, ever since you were a baby. It's just you never saw me."

"You look like a dragon."

The shadow winced. "I am one, or rather, was one."

"Papá has never mentioned knowing a dragon."

"I'm not surprised. We weren't on exactly good terms. He never got along with me at all, actually. I'm afraid to say that was mostly my fault."

"What do you mean?"

"I shall tell you when the time comes, but for now, it'll be best that I go." The shadow's lips curved upwards into what seemed to be a smile. "Besides, you should rest. You're ill, and you need to rest." He was about to leave when Marigold called out to him once more.

"Wait! Can I at least know your name?"

The shadow turned to see her with a gentle gaze. " You may call me Nok." With that he was gone. Marigold was about to say something when her door opened, and her father walked in holding two cups.

"Did you say something, sweetie?" Xibalba inquired, closing the door behind him and walking towards bed to sit down next to her. "I heard you were talking, was someone else here with you?"

Marigold panicked. "Err… No, I was…" she quickly pulled Rattles closer. "Chatting with Rattles!"

He didn't buy it. "I thought you said you were too old for that, my dear."

"Well, yeah, but I was lonely."

Thankfully, Xibalba didn't question her any further, and held out one of the cups for her. "Here. I brought you some hot cocoa."

"Gracias, papá." Marigold accepted the cup and took a sip. She licked her lips in delight. "It's delicious!"

The older god chuckled. "It's not compared to the one you mother used to make. She had her own 'secret' recipe; she didn't share it with anyone. Not even me."

The two continued to chat and drink their hot chocolate, unaware of the shade staring curiously at them from outside the window.


End file.
